


it'll all work out

by mingowow



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Modern AU, Post-Break Up, but there's a glimmer of hope at the end, more stray cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25664725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mingowow/pseuds/mingowow
Summary: When they first met, Jeonghan had told Seungcheol that he was bored.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	it'll all work out

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write something a bit achy and cheollie has been speaking to me lately.
> 
> i also really need to stop writing about cats.
> 
> unbeta'd, we die like men.

Out back behind the officetel, the streetlight constantly flickers and there are a few CCTV cameras propped on powerline poles but it’s questionable if they actually still work or not. There’s also a pair of territorial stray cats that hiss and bare fangs at anyone who comes close to the dumpster back there.

All of this makes it the favored place for Seungcheol to waste away his breaks.

It’s mid-summer now, the days annoyingly warm and humid, the evenings cool but still with a lingering stickiness about them. Seungcheol can feel his shirt clinging to the skin between his shoulder blades from hours trudging around the aircon-less restaurant.

“Hodu-ya,” he calls out, his voice breaking at the end as he tries to clear his throat.

While he knows the caramel-and-chocolate-colored cat doesn’t react to the name he’s so affectionately been given, it does cautiously crane its head out from behind the dumpster at the sound of rustling parchment paper in Seungcheol’s hand.

He ungracefully dumps the leftover chunks of grilled intestines onto the asphalt and wipes his hands on his pants.

“Here you go. Share some with Kongie, you greedy fiend,” Seungcheol tells the cat, the closest thing to a smile he’s had all day tugging at his lips.

Seungcheol glances up at the overhanging tree, the light breeze a welcomed relief from the heat radiating off his skin. It whistles through the leaves and he feels something loosen in his chest for the moment. He waits a long moment to see if Kong will make an appearance (despite having yet to approach him at all), but it isn’t long before he hears his boss hollering out his name.

With a sigh, he crumples up the greasy paper in his hands and tosses it in an untied bag inside the dumpster.

That’s the way it goes, he thinks, watching the lone cat gorge away as his street partner is nowhere to be seen.

When Seungcheol leaves close to three AM, he’s not surprised to see Jihoon leaning against a bike rack halfway down the block. He’s got a baggy black sweatshirt on and Seungcheol doesn’t know how he’s functioning in such inappropriate attire. He feels like his face is about to melt off.

“Bumzu is DJing in Hongdae. You up for dropping by? We can slip in without forking over cover.”

Seungcheol stops in his tracks, eyebrows pulling together.

“Who are you and what have you done with Jihoon?” he asks, half-joking and half definitely confused.

Jihoon rolls his eyes, shoving his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt. “I’m going because Bumzu asked, that’s it.”

Had it been Itaewon or god forbid Gangnam, Seungcheol would’ve refused without a bat of the eye. But given the day (the week, _the month_ really) he’s had, he justifies to himself that some time out with two of his closest friends could be just what he needs. Hongdae is chill anyway. So what if he’s got oil stains on his black jeans? It’s not like anyone would be able to see them anyway. And the scent of grilled meat clinging to his hair should be wiped out by all the cigarette smoke lingering out on the streets.

There’s a line to get in but Jihoon whispers something to the bouncers and the two are let in without missing a beat. Seungcheol glances down the line of college girls in mini dresses and heels and guys with wafts of cologne billowing off of them; he’s definitely not deserving over any of them but he’ll allow himself this selfishness, just for tonight.

It’s dim and crowded, Seungcheol getting battered around quite a bit. He attempts to keep up with Jihoon, who with his lack of physical stature seems to have no problem weaving in and out of dancing, drinking, chatting cliques of clubbers.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he gets to an open pocket of floorspace, near the corner of the backend of the bar, where the bathrooms are located. From there, he can see the DJ booth and just the top of Bumzu’s hair, his head bowed as he messes around with his laptop.

Jihoon orders both of them beers and Seungcheol nearly chugs the thing, partly because he’s so hot and partly because he wants to loosen up. He should’ve picked up a few bottles of soju and drank them on the way, he thinks to himself.

Of course he feels uncomfortable. The sweat on his back is cooling down, sucking his shirt to his skin. He’s exhausted, his feet ache and throb from pulling a near 12-hour shift. He’s not ignorant to the looks being tossed his way, how girls whisper in their friends’ ears and erupt into giggles, all the while staring at him like he’s a caged animal.

This isn’t his scene, not at all. At least not these days. He shouldn’t have come.

But then Jihoon is tugging his arm away from the bar, closer to the DJ booth. Seungcheol rattles the near-empty bottle in his free hand before downing the rest. He shakes it in his friend’s face who gives him an annoyed expression at first. It quickly melts into something else though, something like pity or sympathy, and it leaves a disgusting taste in Seungcheol’s mouth.

He yanks his arm away and turns to head back to the bar but Jihoon, for as small as he is, holds him back.

“I’ll get you another beer. Just... stay. Dance or something. Try to enjoy yourself,” Jihoon tells him, motioning vaguely at the crowd of people before them. Seungcheol spots a couple with their tongues clearly shoved down each other’s throat and he sighs.

Jihoon disappears, taking Seungcheol’s empty bottle with him. Seungcheol glances up at Bumzu in the booth, who finally notices him then, smiling widely and giving him a wave.

“I don’t dance anymore though,” Seungcheol says to no one in particular, his best friend long out of earshot range.

Instead, he allows his eyes to scan the ocean of people on the dancefloor. The song transitions then and he recognizes it right away: the upbeat throb of dance-pop sound laced with rather dreary lyrics. It’s a favorite of Seungcheol’s and when he glances back at his DJing friend, he’s not surprised to get a wink in return.

It’s a small gift for him.

Seungcheol can’t help but laugh a little but it gets caught in his throat as his eyes pan back to the clubbers dancing.

It’s almost cinematic, he thinks a bit bitterly. The crowd seems to part at just the right moment, allowing him the perfect line of sight to see it. To see _him_.

“Here,” Jihoon’s voice tells him, as muffled and clouded as it sounds in Seungcheol’s ears. He feels the cold glass bottle pressed into his bare arm. “What’s up with-- oh.”

Seunghceol forces his eyes down to the floor, all too aware that he’s openly staring.

“I didn’t know he’d be here, honest. I’m sorry,” Jihoon says, grabbing Seungcheol’s bicep and turning his body towards him. “We can leave.”

“No,” Seungcheol hurries out. “It’s fine.” He takes the beer from his friend and takes a long swig. “It was bound to happen sometime. Might as well get it over with.”

Jihoon smiles at him, a pained expression really, but it’s short-lived.

“Seungcheol.”

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, _oh no_.

He knows what he’ll be met with when he turns around, but it still sucks the air out of his lungs when he sees Jeonghan standing only a few feet from him.

His blonde hair is swept back off his forehead like it was a subconscious tousling as opposed to being styled that way. Effortlessly handsome. His shirt is undone a few buttons and Seungcheol hates how his eyes flicker to his exposed collarbones.

And he’s smiling. It’s not a wide grin or anything of the sort but the corners of his lips are definitely curled upwards. It makes Seungcheol’s stomach simultaneously sink and somersault.

Jeonghan looks healthy and well-rested, he smells like he always does, woody and warm. There’s a sheen of sweat along his neck and even the way he seems to be overheated appears amazing. He looks _good_.

Seungcheol is suddenly very self-conscious of how he looks, how he smells, how he knows he is perceived to be (how it’s accurate to how he actually is these days).

“Jeonghan hyung, I don’t think this is a good time,” Jihoon speaks up, stepping almost between the two of them, as if they’re about to brawl.

Jeonghan’s face falls at that and he looks like he wants to say something. But Seungcheol cuts him off.

“It’s fine, Jihoonie.”

He doesn’t meet his best friend’s eyes but he knows the look he’s being given. It conveys a dozen thoughts: “are you sure?”, “will you be alright?”, “I don’t think this is a good idea”.

But Jihoon follows his friend’s wishes and backs down, disappearing from Seungcheol’s peripheral.

“The song came on and I thought of you. And then there you were,” Jeonghan tells him after a moment.

Seungcheol squeezes the bottle in his hand, the condensation making it slip slightly.

“Are you bored or something?” he asks, not acknowledging Jeonghan’s words.

“What?”

“You came over to talk to me. So you must be bored, right?”

Seungcheol doesn’t know if he really intended to strike a nerve but he definitely did, given how Jeonghan physically recoils a bit and the smile that had been dancing on his lips quickly disappearing.

“It wasn’t like that, Cheol.”

“I got a new job,” Seungcheol tells him, almost randomly but he has his objectives. “And I got cats. I’m taking care of some cats.”

Sure, it’s a partial lie if he were to examine the details. But in a way, he feels like the cats are his. Or at the very least, they wandered into his life at just the right now to be a distraction, something to look forward to and focus his energy on.

“Oh, cats. Really?” Jeonghan pauses a beat, his tongue licking over his bottom lip as he casts his eyes downward. “That’s great. It sounds like you’re doing great.”

Seungcheol wants to laugh because that’s quite the opposite. But Jeonghan doesn’t need to know that. He doesn’t need (or really deserve) to know how messy Seungcheol’s life has felt.

“You seem to be doing well yourself.”

Jeonghan smiles again, showing teeth. But Seungcheol has spent so many days, weeks, months studying the other that he knows when it doesn’t truly reach his eyes. It’s his facade.

And when he doesn’t acknowledge Seungcheol’s statement, he knows it must not be true. Jeonghan must not be doing well either.

But that isn’t his problem anymore, Seungcheol reminds himself.

“You should drop by the shop sometime, for old time’s sake. Channie keeps asking about you,” Jeonghan tells him, as if he isn’t the sole reason Seungcheol quit his job at their shared place of employment in the first place.

“Yeah, maybe one of these days.”

The song Seungcheol loves so dearly is over; the music transitions to something with heavier bass, the kind that rattles in his chest and that he, truthfully, can’t stand. It seems like the perfect time to make his exit.

“See you around,” Seungcheol says, the words slipping out without his mind registering their meaning.

He doesn’t know if he has intentions of going out of his way to see Jeonghan again but perhaps his subconscious acting on its own.

The words seem to mean something to Jeonghan, who smiles at him again, this time a bit warmer. It is his favorite smile of Jeonghan’s. It was, anyway.

“Take care, Cheol.”

Seungcheol makes his way back to the bar, now finished beer bottle in his hand. Jihoon is leaning against the counter and suddenly springs upright when he sees the elder approaching.

“You alright?” Jihoon asks him.

Seungcheol sighs, smiling a bit shakily (but smiling all the same).

“It never goes away, does it?”

**\---**

“Hodu-ya! Come and get it.”

Seungcheol squats down as the stray cat cautiously steps towards him. It sniffs the pile of leftover meat before quietly digging in, not minding when Seungcheol’s hand comes up and lightly pets along its spine. They’ve built trust between each other now.

The only thing that tears his attention away from cooing at the animal before him is some movement from behind the dumpster. He looks up and is surprised to see an orange and white cat staring at him.

“Kongie.”

With absolute hesitancy, the usually skittish and avoidant cat approaches the two of them, barely sparing Seungcheol a glance before it begins to nibble on the meat its partner is currently enjoying.

Seungcheol feels a burst of pride and something resembling happiness at the sight before him. He doesn’t dare reach out a hand to pet the wary animal; it needs time to get used to him, to get used to this.

But he’s made progress and for now, it’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
